


how to ruin someone

by resurrectdead



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Best Song Ever, Blow Jobs, First Time, M/M, Nerdiness, Porn, Porn With Plot, Rimming, School, Smut, some unserious texting action
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-27 18:27:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8411905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/resurrectdead/pseuds/resurrectdead
Summary: ”U want to come over and study ? I did promise”, he writes, followed by another upside down smiley.
Or: Marcel is Louis' assigned partner for a biology project and for some reason he's very hard to resist.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this title came from me looking up rimming techniques and reading the title "how to rim someone" wrong

Zayn snaps his fingers in front of Louis’ eyes. “Earth to Louis, Earth to Louis. Are you copying?”

Louis is busy. He cannot believe his luck. 

Biology is by far his worst subject, especially now that they’re talking about things slightly more complicated than slavishly repeating how the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell. He’s not being sarcastic, though; he really is lucky. Because they’ve just about entered these two whole dreaded weeks of executing a groups-of-two project - a rather big one when you’re definitely expected to work even after school hours and do experiments and observations at home and shit, because somehow that’s legal - and Louis has been paired up with Marcel. Fucking Marcel.

He felt the angry glares when they got paired up, he did. _Everyone_ wants to be paired up with Marcel. Not out of liking, or because Marcel has fantastic social skills. Rather the opposite. Everyone wants to be paired up with Marcel because that means kicking your feet up on a chair and laying back, because Marcel is Marcel, and Marcel is smart as hell, and Marcel will do all the damned work himself. You don’t even have to ask. 

(Would you ask, however, you’d probably get a stuttering whimper for a reply, a coy yet all the same confident nod, because the fool couldn’t possibly say no and besides, he seems to love it. _Then_ you may proceed to kick your feet up on a chair and lay back.)

“I’m listening”, Louis replies then, absently. He looks at Marcel in his front row seat; predator on prey. Back straight, shirt buttoned, fingers clasped together in front of him. 

They’re so different, yet they’re going to do oh so well together. 

Louis turns his triumphant smile towards Zayn, and Zayn just glares right back at him.

“Oh, just keep bragging, why don’t you”, Zayn mutters and shoves at his shoulder. “Some of us are going to get an F and we’re going to own up to it our-bloody-selves, man.”

Louis leans over to him, their benches being perched together. Zayn looks as curious as if he was about to hear a big secret.

“The mitochondria”, Louis wheezes, breaking into an uncontrollable fit on giggles at the end and Zayn’s eyes widen, “is the powerhouse of the cell.”

Zayn raises his fist in a fake punch before their teacher calls them out to shut up or leave. And as much as Louis would rather do the latter, he’d also quite like to stay and bathe in the satisfaction of his victory just a little while longer. 

So he does.

 

 

 

Louis finds Marcel by his locker at the end of the day, head stuffed inside it and digging his arms around. He feels a pang of guilt in his chest as he thinks about how he’s actually fully considering as well as fully _consenting to_ ignoring Marcel for the following few days and letting him do all the work alone. Or rather, do all the work _for him_. It seemed the only logical option for a while; Louis isn’t one of the top students, despite everything, and so it does go with his sort of persona that you for some unknown reason have to keep up while slaving to a normative schooling the first half of your pre-adolescent life.

Besides, he only takes biology because he wants to play football (something like, knowing about the human bodily functions and all that bullcrap), and he needs a decent grade to do so and study further. Marcel would have been the perfect saviour in his most defective situation.

And, yet.

Louis glances over at the front doors - so close, yet so far away, Zayn stood in front of them flailing his arms at him to come with - as his legs carry him over to Marcel. 

“Ay there, mate”, he says cheerfully, or as cheerfully as he can muster while his chest aches with shame and an extreme need to get the hell out of this god-awful school.

There’s a loud thump as Marcel hits his head in the ceiling of the metal locker. Louis winces.

“Jesus”, Marcel wheezes and pulls his head out, blinking at Louis. “Oh- hi!”

Louis closes his eyes with a furrowed brow and smiles. He can't help but take the few seconds to ponder upon of why he speaks as if he's just had braces put in. 

It is rather endearing.

“Hey, Marcel”, he starts over, blinking, trying to soften his voice and not break out laughing. “Didn’t mean to scare you there.”

“Oh that’s fine, Louis”, Marcel insists. “Just wasn’t prepared, is all. Seems I’ve lost my pencil.”

Marcel scratches the back of his hair as he smiles coyly and Louis is suddenly reminded of how he’s one year his senior and Marcel is but an innocent boy in his eyes. They only even know each other because there happened to be a shortage in biology teachers this year. And yet, somehow, he can’t help but take a long, good look at him.

“Ah.” Louis puts his hands in the back pockets of his trousers, and he sways on his feet a bit. “You know, Marcel, I was thinking uh… about our project?”

“Oh, of course, I’ve got some ideas actually”, Marcel starts and claps his hands together excitedly. Louis nearly flinches, but Marcel just grins. “There’s a lot to get through, but I think we’ll do just fine. How about we write something like, _’The effect of music on plants’_ ”

He makes hand motions as if he pictures a movie being made and he’s just releasing the jaw-dropping title of it. He looks at Louis with wide eyes behind the big, square glasses, and Louis looks at the ground and shakes his head with a smile.

“High achiever, you are”, he hums. 

He digs down in his back pocket and fishes his phone out, reaching it out for Marcel. 

“Hey uh, put your number in for me, yeah? So you can make sure I get my ass on this and help you finish.”

(Because he was slowly starting to doubt more and more each second passing that he was actually going to bother doing so.)

“Oh, ‘course!” Marcel beams and taps his contact information in. “Um. Thanks, Louis. This will be so great, I just know it.”

“Thank _you_ ”, Louis retorts automatically. He puts his phone back into his pocket and instead feels something else beside it in the small space. “Oh, would you look at that.”

He pulls out a pencil and holds it out in front of him.

“You can have this.”

Marcel beams even brighter as he takes the pencil, the corners of his mouth nearly reaching from ear to ear. Louis notices his dimples, one more vague than the other, and the thought crosses his mind once again how adorable this boy is. He forces thoughts into his brain about the cute boy at the cafe, or the guy at the bus stop who slipped his number into his pocket as he squeezed past; anything to crowd the current bad thoughts and replace them one by one. Choices, oh so many choices, and Marcel cannot be one of them. 

Louis simply will not let it happen.

Marcel thanks him again before they say goodbye, and Louis shakes all thoughts out of his head as he starts to the doors and towards Zayn, towards the reality that is his. Stupid school. Stupid biology project. Stupid, stupid Louis.

 

 

 

It’s saturday afternoon when Louis’ mum and stepdad announce he’s going to have to go with them to his aunt’s. Merely four seconds later Louis casually retorts with that he can’t come with because he’s going to have a classmate over to study (because it’s a big project, yeah it is, mother, so big you have to work on weekends and it’s very important it gets done soon so I really have to stay home), and though he thought the lie was the perfect crime, his mum instantly says she wants to see proof of said classmate’s existence before they leave. And then it takes Louis one minute on the dot to be in his room, panicking, pacing back and forth because, what the hell, he can’t invite _Marcel_ to his _house_.

But it has to be him. He’s had Zayn over one too many times and they know not a single study will be made with that madman around. He doesn’t have any other friends he cares enough about to spend an evening with when he’d rather be alone jerking off, and the cute guys’ numbers he’s obtained over the past few weeks suddenly feel too shallow, like they’re all boring and probably slimy to kiss (not that he’d know) and besides, his mum would want to see the essay when they got back.

He flops down on top of his bed, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. Heart thumping, he reaches for his phone in his pocket. His first instinct is still to text Zayn and he explains the situation the best he can without his desperate need to just burst out screaming leaking through into the sentences on the display. 

The reply comes almost instantly.

_“Lol u havin him @ ur house u must be desperate init bruv lololol”_

And he’s instantly glad he didn’t wait for Zayn to reply while expecting some form of actual advice.

He taps into his contact list, thumb hovering over the call button on Marcel’s name; he even counts the digits in his number to make sure he hasn’t been messed with and maybe all this is just a bad dream. He taps open a new text message instead as his nerves get the best of him. Ideas spin in his head and he thinks long and hard, biting his lip all the same, because for some reason he can’t find the strength to be his usual smartass self while around this boy.

 _“Marcel ? It’s Louis from school”_ , becomes his finished product, adding an upside down smiley face at the end to not scare the poor fool away.

He gets another text before he has time to hit send, and he rolls his eyes as he sees in the preview how it’s Zayn fucking with him again. He sends his message without a second thought to tap open his and Zayn’s conversation again.

_”U cannot be srs m8 ..”_

_”Oi how bout u chill”_ , Louis types out, annoyed, and hits send. _”He’s not so bad and I think he’s kinda cute ?”_

His heart flutters as a message from Marcel rolls in on the top of his screen. He freezes, heat creeping up his cheeks for reasons unknown. 

He doesn’t want to seem desperate and open it immediately (what if he’d send another message and notice Louis in the conversation? Jesus fuck) but then he sees the three dots of Zayn’s incoming message pop up and it gives him the balls to instantly back out and tap open Marcel’s conversation.

 _“Hi Louis :) x”_

Louis grits his teeth. He takes a deep breath, then presses back. 

He opens Zayn’s message instead. 

_“LOLOLOL k have a wank n calm down”_ A number of emojis crying with laughter. _”I know it’s been a while but lou have standards!!”_

Louis falls back and stares at his ceiling. 

He almost laughs in pure frustration, knowing how fucked he is. He reminds himself how he only takes biology to be able to play football, not to get shit from his best friend. And especially not to get wound up over stupidly cute boys.

“Why does this have to happen to me?” he wonders aloud as he squeezes his eyes shut and thinks of better times. 

He sends a number of middle finger emojis back to Zayn once he’s recovered slightly from the existential crisis, his mouth a comically angry straight line as he thinks of the comeback.

_”Anyway shouldn’t u be following Liam around in hopes of him sucking u off ?”_

He remembers Marcel again, and opens his conversation. He has no idea what to even say. So he just goes for it.

 _”U want to come over and study ? I did promise”_ , he writes, followed by another upside down smiley.

He puts his phone on his bedside table and gets up to tidy his room, just in case of emergency. Mostly just to clear his head, though.

Meaning, he stuffs his clothes scattered across the floor into a corner and throws his jumpers and hoodies over a chair. He also looks himself in the mirror, just being in his lazy wear - a large t-shirt and jogging bottoms - but he can’t bother to change. It’s exhausting enough at it is, and when he’s back in bed and far beyond ready for a smoke, he’s got two messages lighting up the screen.

 _”That’s low tommo”_ , has Zayn replied.

 _”Send me the adress :)”_ , Marcel has.

 

 

 

His mum and stepdad look smug as all hell when Marcel steps over the threshold. He’s dressed ridiculously smart; he’s got those giant glasses pushed up his nose above a big, toothy smile, and his shirt is buttoned all the way to his adam’s apple and tucked into his trousers and that disgustingly soft looking checkered vest tops it all off like he’s the president of the biggest model agency on planet Beautiful Nerd Twinks Dot Com.

Worst is he fucking smells nice too, Louis notes.

They say their nice-to-meet-yous and see-you-laters and whatever else before Louis grabs Marcel’s wrist and drags him off because really, all he wanted was to have the house for himself. He doesn’t let go before they’re in his room, and he closes the door behind them as he hears his parents lock the front door and leave down the steps towards the car. 

He drops down on top of his bed and checks his phone but, no, Zayn still hates him. He still opens their conversation and types out a quick _”Oh my god he’s here”_ before Marcel clears his throat and Louis looks up and puts his phone away.

Marcel stands with his hands behind his back and looks down on Louis. A satchel hangs off his shoulder in addition to the rest of his attire and god, he has to at the very least be bisexual with a slight preference for girls.

“Hi”, Louis says and smiles, though he said exactly the same thing a few moments ago.

“Hello”, Marcel chirps back. “Uh. Can I have a look around? Before we start, I mean, if it’s not intrusive. It’s a really quite magnificent room you got here, Louis.”

He sways a finger across the room, gesturing towards its… magnificence?

“‘Course!” Louis says softly. “Make yourself at home, I guess.”

Marcel just beams. He immediately walks up to a picture of Louis as a kid in a far too big football jersey. He picks it up and looks at it long and hard, squinting through his glasses.

“I don’t feel like studying at all, to be quite honest”, Louis continues as he checks his phone. Zayn has replied. “Kind of just needed my parents out the house.”

“Oh, it’s fine, I’m sure”, Marcel says and puts the photo down. He stumbles into a pair of jeans on the floor. “I’ve - _oop_ \- I’ve already written some anyway... Well, quite a lot, actually. You could look it over, see if it’s any good. I got a bit carried away with it. Had lots of ideas and stuff.”

 _”Lolol don’t come crawlin to me m8”_ , Zayn has written.

Suddenly the bed shifts and Marcel plops down next to him. Louis all but throws his phone back to the tabletop.

“Do you have laptop or should I lend you mine?” Marcel asks, so very close to him. "I don't have any embarrassing things on there, _promise_."

Louis gulps, and he’s sure it’s obvious.

“I could use yours", he mumbles, "if that’s okay with you."

Marcel and him clearly don’t work on the same wavelength because he’s still smiling wide and proud as if nothing bad could ever happen in the world. "Yeah, of course!"

He reaches into his satchel by his hip and pulls his laptop out, then sets the bag aside on the floor.

“Ta-daa”, he rejoices after he’s entered his password and puts it in Louis’ lap.

Louis pretends to read the six filled pages (he does _skim_ through it, because he's not a complete ass) while Marcel sits rubbing his hands over his thighs and looks around the room. It takes him about a minute because he really couldn’t care less. Biology barely even makes sense to him.

"It's good", Louis says suddenly and Marcel looks over to him. They lock eyes and Louis notices how they’re quite a greenish blue. "It's very good, Marcel."

"Thank you so much!" Marcel chimes with a big smile. "Cute as a button, you are. Any constructive criticism at all?"

"No, nowhere. I'll just let you finish, I think. There's nothing I could ever do that would be better than this."

Marcel tilts his head. "Oh, you're just too nice!"

He takes his laptop back and sets it in his lap. Louis props a pillow up and leans back against the headboard, then picks his phone back up.

 _"How morally wrong if I fuck him ?"_ he asks Zayn.

The reply takes a while and he decides on playing a game on his phone to pass the time and forget about his far too big anticipation. He can’t even bring himself to see what Marcel’s doing. 

His phone buzzes a few moments later.

_"M8 RLLY"_

Then after a few seconds:

 _"Be gentle wid him bro lol have fun"_ , with an added fistbump.

He looks up. Marcel's brow is furrowed as he types fast into the keyboard, biting his bottom lip in concentration.

Marcel is truly magnificent and Louis is truly the personification of teen arousal.

He clears his throat and it cuts through the silence. The younger boy doesn’t even take his eyes off the screen. "Going alright, there?"

"It's going very well, actually", Marcel responds immediately, and excitedly so. "I'm just looking it over, seeing that we fill every criteria for an A. I think we're close to an A*, even!"

Louis leans up and sits down behind Marcel on the bed, Marcel’s long, slender legs hanging off its edge as Louis’ are curled underneath him. He looks over him, down onto the screen.

“That looks very good.”

He leans his chin on his shoulder, his hand on the mattress feeling the warmth of Marcel’s body. He brings said hand up and lets it travel up Marcel's thigh. 

Marcel flinches then stiffens, but he doesn't recoil.

“You’ve worked very hard, haven’t you now?” Louis continues.

Marcel’s eyes seem to widen as Louis' fingers curl to the inside of his thigh and his knees twitch, on the verge of shutting but never fully do. "U-uh, Louis?"

"Yeah?" he murmurs back, loving the way Marcel is getting all flustered and nervous.

"What- are you..."

“I think it’s quite sweet you say _we_ , too”, he interrupts, squeezing the flesh lightly. “I haven’t done much to deserve such credit, now have I?"

His hand travels upwards, hand flat on his chinos, skin going hot underneath his touch.

"I'm sure there's _something_ I can do to repay you", he says as his fingers grace Marcel's package and the younger boy gasps. He raises an eyebrow and smirks behind him. "Oh, you're quite big, aren't you?"

He grasps a little harder, squeezes. Marcel's jaw hangs slack and he stutters, brow furrowed again. He starts to smile a bit nervously.

" _Ha_ , that feels... feels really good, Louis."

Louis puts his lips to his neck. Marcel's head lolls to the side and a whimper escape his lips.

"A-ah, _Louis_! Maybe we should... maybe we- oh, christ." His hands are gripping onto the sheets now. "This is. Um. This is..."

“You’re not working, Marcel”, Louis murmurs against his neck, palming him through the front of his trousers. “Am I distracting you? Maybe I should leave you be-”

“No”, Marcel blurts out. He tips his head back and Louis sucks harder on his neck. “ _Ah_. Christ, no. Don’t.”

Louis brings his other hand up, around Marcel’s small frame, rubbing over his torso. He feels himself ache between his thighs as he starts feeling Marcel growing harder under his touch.

“Jesus, Louis”, Marcel whimpers as Louis licks over his skin, his breathing is heavy. “Ha, I… oh, I don’t- wow.”

Louis can’t take it anymore. He _craves_ him naked on his bed, and he starts by pulling the vest off his head. There’s a small sound of disapproval as the hands stop roaming his body and his glasses are almost pulled off with his clothes, but soon both the vest and the laptop is in a pile on the floor.

Louis quickly unbuttons the first few buttons of his dress shirt and attacks the bronze skin of his shoulders, nuzzling his head in the crook of his neck as Marcel emits a sound that is the closest he’s got so far to a moan. 

“This- _mmh_. I’m not really… Oh!” He’s interrupted as Louis puts weight on him and Marcel’s suddenly lying face down over his bed. “Oh, wow, okay. Um. Are you- are you sure about this, Lou?” 

Louis yanks his shirt off his arms and throws it on the floor, straddling his legs over the backs of his thighs. He leans over his slender body and leaves kisses over his shoulder blades, hands reaching down his waist to the waistband of his trousers.

Marcel looks over his shoulder. “I’m just. So you won’t… heh, um. Regret it? Or.” He fidgets with his fingers and chews on his bottom lip. “It’s just. I’ve never really-”

“You’re gorgeous”, Louis stops him with a murmur. He puts his hands on his hips, hooking his fingers in his belt loops. “Fuck everything else. You’re beautiful.”

Marcel ducks his head and though Louis can’t see it properly, he spots his dimple and knows he’s smiling. “Um. Kay.”

He tugs his trousers down, followed by his boxers, stopping just below his ass. He leans down and puts his hands on it, perky as fuck, and he can’t help but slap it. Marcel gasps before he buries his head in the sheets, his greased up and combed back hair becoming a downright mess.

Louis backs down, sitting on his ankles instead. “Stand on all fours for me?”

Marcel shuffles up with a furrowed brow. He’s flushed red and god, Louis wishes he could see his cock right now. “What’re you gonna do, Louis?”

Louis immediately throws him the pillow from behind him. Marcel takes it, confused, and Louis presses on his upper back to force his head down into it again. He reaches into his bedside table drawer and finds an almost emptied bottle of lube.

“Bite the pillow”, he grunts, spreading his ass cheeks and squeezing out a dab of lube. Marcel twitches and gasps again as the cold liquid hits his sensitive skin and Louis just smirks, popping the cap shut and throwing it aside. “I have neighbours.”

He bends over and nuzzles his face into his ass, darting his tongue out and tasting the lube. It’s warming and tingling and it instantly has Marcel writhing below him. He moans and tilts his head downwards, face pressed into the pillow with his hands gripping the sheets.

“Oh, oh my god”, he mewls, muffled, and Louis’ grip on his hips has to tighten for him to be still. “Oh, christ, ah! _Louis_ , what’re you- oh, _god_.”

Louis licks around, tongueing into his hole and kissing all over and it only makes himself ache for a touch even more. He feels Marcel’s body quiver and he pulls away slightly.

“You’re not going to come yet, are you?” he drawls, pushing his face forward again and full-heartedly pressing his tongue into him, massaging with his lips and digging his nails into the younger boy’s hips.

Marcel thrusts his hips forward as he moans but is only met with free air. “ _Jeez_ , I’ve never- never done this before, Louis!” he whines, head thrown back, away from the pillow. He squeezes his thighs together and Louis wishes he could stick his hand through his legs and feel his throbbing cock against his palm instead. “God, oh god- it just feels _so_ so _good_.”

Louis gives his ass a last smack and he can hear Marcel cry out, but it’s a mixture between pleasure and pain. He’s got him right where he want him.

“You’ll remember this one, then”, Louis murmurs as he pulls away. 

He yanks Marcel’s shoulders up with both his hands, greeted with a light grunt and a gasp, then he pulls at just one of his shoulders to flip him over. Marcel bounces down on his back, giggling nervously, and Louis stomach does a flippy-over thing at how ridiculously hot he suddenly looks. His lips are bitten red, his hair is a mess and his glasses are slightly clouded. He can’t fucking believe this.

“Wanna suck you off”, he mutters, tugging his trousers and pants down his legs and off his feet. His dick springs free and slaps against his belly, Marcel moaning and whimpering all the same. “Fuck. Promise you won’t come yet.”

His cock is _massive_ , swollen and leaking precome. Louis bites his lips as he looks him over, then snaps back to reality and gets the bottle of lube again.

“I… I’ll try, Louis, but you’re just…” Marcel thrusts his hips up slightly. “Ah. You’re just... so good to me.”

Louis smirks at him and squirts lube into his hand. He covers both hands in it and leans down on his elbows in front of Marcel’s ass again. “Pull your knees up for me.”

He does, and Louis immediately wraps his hand around Marcel’s cock. His brow furrows (Louis wonders if it hasn’t constantly been) and his mouth turns into an o-shape. He throws his head back and moans, toes curling and jesus, talk about inexperienced. It’s like this boy has never even touched himself before.

He jerks his hand slowly and carefully while he brings his other hand up and teases his ass with his lubed-up finger before he pushes it inside. Marcel squirms, moaning between gritted teeth. It doesn’t get easier for him to hold back his orgasm when Louis puts his lips to the coated head of his cock, parting his lips and sliding down his shaft.

“Oh, Louis, I _can’t_ ”, he cries, thrusting hips. “I’m so close. Can’t hold it!”

Louis already decided he can’t possibly fuck him. Not this time, at least. But he also wonders if he can even make him blow him. He’s so precious and innocent, he’s just not sure it could physically work.

He pops off his dick and slides his finger out. “Hang on”, he mumbles.

He gets up and knee-walks up alongside Marcel, then turns towards his bent legs and puts his own leg over his body. His crotch hovers over his face and fuck, it’s undoubtedly the most turned on he’s ever been.

“Can you do something for me, babe?” he asks, leaning down over his body and he grabs his cock again, awarded by a sharply drawn breath heard from Marcel. “It’s not weird, promise. Just jerk me off while I sort you, okay?”

Marcel nods, mumbling something incoherent. He tugs Louis jogging bottoms down, then reaches between his thighs and his cold, slender fingers stroke with their very tips up his hard length. Louis groans, tips his head forward and takes Marcel into his mouth again.

Marcel whimpers, then wraps his hand harder around Louis. Though inexperienced, he tugs and squeezes in just the right ways and Louis suddenly feels stupid for expecting Marcel to not instantly come. He shudders a bit when Marcel jerks over his head, thumb stroking over the slit.

Louis pushes his middle finger into his ass again while his other hand jerks Marcel’s cock where his mouth can’t reach and he swirls his tongue around his head. He suddenly hears Marcel stutter something high-pitched behind him, and though he can’t quite make out what it is, he knows he’s close. He’s not too far behind himself.

“God, Louis, I feel- I’m gonna- oh god oh _god_.” He doesn’t have time to finish his thought before he thrusts his hips and he shudders all over, his cock twitching against Louis’ tongue and spurting cum. “ _Ahh!_ Gosh!”

Louis laps his dick clean through his aftershocks, then pulls back and turns around. Marcel releases his grip of his cock and Louis straddles his chest instead, rocking his hips slightly as he jerks himself off. Marcel looks a ridiculous mixture of hot and adorable, and with their eyes locked as he lays panting, sprawled naked on his bed, it doesn’t take Louis long before he throws his head back and comes, cum spraying into his hand and dripping on Marcel’s heaving chest. 

He falls down next to him on the bed onto his back, staring up at the ceiling as he catches his breath. He knows that after-sex cigarette is always the best one, but he can’t quite find the strength within himself to get up. 

He hears a soft, shaky breath beside him, and he immediately reacts.

“Oh, right.” He leans up on his elbow and looks down at Marcel who meets his eyes. “You okay?”

Marcel grins and pushes at his chest. “Don’t be mean!”

“I’m mean?” Louis says with raised eyebrows. “I think I just gave you the best orgasm of your life, young sir. Should be thankful.

Marcel chuckles and rolls his eyes. He sits up, but Louis snakes an arm around his waist and pulls him down again.

“Hey now”, he says, leaning over him. “Who said anything about leaving?”

Marcel looks up at him, eyes blown wide. Louis’ smirk drops off his face. Then Marcel leans up and presses their lips together.

Louis is sure he tastes of lube and salt, but still kisses him back with all his might. When they pull back a few moments later, they’re both smiling at each other.

“So…” Louis starts. “Reckon we should do this again sometime?”

“Definitely”, Marcel says immediately, nodding. “Definitely should do this again.”

Louis can’t wait to _not tell Zayn any single detail of this_. It’s quite his favourite activity.

**Author's Note:**

> I've cared about one direction for like approximately a month or two (but I instantly fell in love with them after one single interview just as I instantly fell in love with Marcel after one single music video) and this is my first fanfic with them so please have mercy on me not getting the characters on point and stuff! Anyway, another big thanks to Ann for pretty much writing all of Zayn's text messages for me, as well as just generally inspiring and motivating me to write this.
> 
> Please comment/leave kudos if you liked it!!


End file.
